


To the Victor, the Spoils

by initialism



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, Femdom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:07:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27357757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/initialism/pseuds/initialism
Summary: Sombra agreed to Widowmaker's terms. But only because she fully expected to win.
Relationships: Sombra | Olivia Colomar/Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17
Collections: Femdom Exchange 2020





	To the Victor, the Spoils

**Author's Note:**

  * For [girlsarewolves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlsarewolves/gifts).



Sombra walked down the corridor, trailing her fingers against the wall in the hopes of finding some sort of data connection. Although she was doing her best to affect insouciance, she kept glancing from side to side, up and down, wondering where Widowmaker might be lurking.

_"Just a little friendly training exercise," she had said. "A chance to really test your skills."_

And so Sombra found herself here, in a nondescript office block owned by some Talon front company or other, standing empty with signs advertising office space packed around it, although whenever anyone tried to inquire they were put off one way or another.

She had already avoided the trap of the big open atrium, with its multitude of possible sniper positions, each with a far-too-wide field of fire, by coming in through the basement service entrance.

 _"We can make it ..._ interesting _, if you want." The cold glint in her eye that told Sombra exactly what she meant: there would be a forfeit._

She sprinted up two floors via the maintenance stairway, keeping her footfalls soft and hopefully quiet enough not to be picked up.

Reaching a set of automatic doors, she made another attempt at hacking into the building's infrastructure, but the mechanism was entirely self-contained, the sensor operating the motors which slid the doors open.

 _I will be having words with somebody about proper connectivity,_ Sombra thought to herself. Then again, perhaps that was the point -- maybe this place was used as a secure site where Talon agents couldn't be bugged. It was certainly the point of Widowmaker choosing this as their battleground.

She thought about going through the doors into the main part of the building -- an open plan office stretched out as far as the windows, empty desks clustered in threes and fours. Perhaps one of the appliances in the little kitchen area would be connected? It was almost impossible to buy something these days that wasn't, but judging by the attention to detail whoever had fitted this place out had displayed, they probably would have managed to avoid it. And just like the atrium, she'd be far too visible.

At least the rules of engagement meant that Widowmaker was somewhere here in the building, rather than across the street. That would make it virtually impossible to avoid being shot. All Sombra had to do was work out where she was hiding and get the drop on her.

She should go further up, she decided, retreating back to the stairway.

The next few floors were similar open-plan layouts; she rejected them quickly. But then she found somewhere more to her liking: a maintenance floor tucked away halfway up the building. She tried the door handle -- still nothing electronically -- then, finally, losing patience, simply kicked it open.

Through the door, she found herself in a narrow passageway that branched and branched again as she followed it along, zeroing in on the faint whirring sound of a server farm. _Finally,_ she thought.

Keeping a wary eye on the cleaners' cupboard opposite the door, she broke through and began accessing the servers. The sudden inrush of data was like having a blindfold removed.

Except ... It only took a few moments to realise that the servers were chugging through pointless mathematical calculations, searching for prime numbers long since found with an inefficient algorithm.

And it was moments after that that she spotted the Venom Mine, buried deep in the server stacks.

 _She knew I'd come here all along,_ Sombra thought.

She was not without resources, though. Quickly, she assembled her translocator and activated it--

* * *

\--and appeared a few metres above the roof. Instantly, she bent her knees to absorb the impact of landing, putting out her free hand mostly because it would look cool if anyone was watching -- though she hoped Widowmaker didn't have her in her sights.

With no time to set a better target, she had gone for the relative safety of not appearing inside a wall but now she was very exposed.

The wind whipped around her. 

She ducked, entirely on reflex, before she was even aware that she'd heard the round whipping over her head. She ran for the relative cover of an air conditioning vent while waiting for the translocator to be ready to use again. As soon as it beeped, she activated it again--

* * *

This time, she appeared inside the giant lobby she'd avoided from the start. She hadn't spotted Widowmaker in the brief time up on the roof, but unless she'd been breaking their agreed terms of engagement, she couldn't possibly get here immediately--

"Hands up," came a voice from behind her.

Sombra slowed raised her hands. "OK, you got me." Then she turned her head, realising only then how close the barrel of Widowmaker's gun was to the back of her neck. "But _how_?"

Widowmaker gestured downwards with the gun. "On your knees. _Then_ we'll talk."

As Sombra knelt down, folding her hands behind her head, she felt a moment of churning terror in her gut that almost immediately sank lower in her body, transmuting as it did so, until it was a rush of desperate arousal in her cunt. Maybe losing wouldn't be too bad, after all.

Widowmaker stepped around and stood above her, impassive in the helmet she was still wearing. Then she smiled, just a little, and Sombra realised that her mound must be glowing in the infrared, even through her clothes.

Sombra cocked an eyebrow. "So ...?"

"So," Widowmaker said. "How would you evaluate your performance in this scenario?"

"There was virtually nothing I could hack," Sombra said bitterly. "It's like this place was built a hundred years ago. Except it doesn't look that way."

"It's a secure Talon facility," Widowmaker said. "Deliberately designed to be hard to infiltrate. Even then, you led me a merry dance. And I must admit to having an unfair advantage." She reached into her thigh holster and pulled out ... another translocator.

Sombra swore.

"I 'borrowed' one of your spares," Widowmaker said. "Nothing in the rules of engagement banning that."

Nothing that is not forbidden is permissible. And since Sombra spent most of her time finding ways around what was forbidden, she could hardly complain. "But even then, they can't track each other."

"No, you're right, of course." Widowmaker tapped the side of her helmet. "But I think you may have been underestimating my infra-sight."

"But if you can track me with that ..."

"There's a reason I wanted to do this here, away from prying eyes. So that we can have a conversation just as private as you thought the one you had with Volskaya was ..."

Sombra swallowed. "So what, are you going to kill me? Or just throw me out of Talon?" Again, fear spiked and almost immediately melted into arousal.

"Oh no," Widowmaker said. "I fully intend to collect on our bet. Just for ... a little longer than you might have anticipated. And you're going to cut me in on whatever deal you made--"

"It wasn't really anything as concrete as a deal," Sombra said. "More an arrangement to be open to future arrangements."

"Still," Widowmaker said. "From now in, I'm in on it."

"And in exchange--"

"I won't kill you, or throw you out of Talon."

"Fair enough," Sombra said. "So, now what?"

Widowmaker finally retracted her helmet and looked around the atrium. Finally, she gestured with her gun to a large leather couch in the waiting area for guests. "Crawl over there," she said.

Sombra did so, deliberately exaggerating the movements of her ass along the way. She was damned if she wasn't going to make sure that Widowmaker wasn't just as turned on as she was, even if the odds were that she would never show it.

"Strip," Widowmaker said.

As Sombra was removing her clothes, Widowmaker finally put down the rifle on the long, low coffee table next to the couch. For just a moment, the thought flashed into Sombra's mind of rolling out of the way, grabbing it, and turning the tables. But she knew it would be useless: even she wasn't fast enough and Widowmaker would surely not have put it down unless she'd locked it to her touch somehow.

Widowmaker took off her helmet next, placing it next to the rifle. "Lie back." Her voice was almost gentle now. Almost.

Sombra settled into position on the couch. She tried to ignore the way the other woman's cool, appraising gaze was taking in the sight of her naked body. Tried to ignore, too, how much that was turning her on. Even without the infrared display provided by her helmet, surely the way the heat was pooling inside her was completely obvious.

She felt a single finger run its way up the length of her slit, barely even touching her at all -- teasing, but in a way that made it perfectly obvious that Widowmaker knew that if she pressed inwards even a little, Sombra would yield completely.

As she snatched the finger away, Sombra bucked upwards, desperately trying to snatch it back.

"My, my, we are impatient." The faintest ghost of a smile flickered across Widowmaker's face for a moment. "Almost as though you don't object all that much to the situation you find yourself in." Suddenly, she reached down, pinching both of Sombra's nipples simultaneously. "Admit it, you thought this would be the other way round, didn't you? Imagined you would turn the whole building against me and get the drop on me somehow or another."

Sombra bit her lip as she nodded. Where was all this leading?

"What would you have had me do, I wonder? Would you have laid me down like this?"

"I'd have had you on your knees," Sombra said.

"Going down on you? Or kissing those impractical boots of yours?" Widowmaker glanced at where they lay discarded.

"They're perfectly adequate for my purposes," Sombra said. "And it's not like you're one to talk in that department."

Widowmaker laughed curtly. "You're lucky that I enjoy your brattiness," she said. "But don't push it too far. I don't have a gag handy and it would be very impractical to make you grip a knife between your teeth the whole time."

 _Impractical, but very, very hot_ , Sombra thought but she said, "But you don't have me kneeling for you."

"Indeed not." Again, that not-quite-smile. "I've got you exactly where I want you." And so saying, she reached into her equipment and retrieved ... something. Sombra couldn't quite make out what it was, but then suddenly it was being thrust inside her and it became quite apparent that it was some sort of dildo. And when it suddenly began buzzing inside her, it became obvious that it was some sort of remote control.

Even as the sudden stimulation threatened to overwhelm her, Sombra tried to work out how to gain control over it; if it was receiving signals, it had to be vulnerable to _her_ signals.

"Don't waste your time," Widowmaker said, either anticipating what she would be doing or somehow able to detect the attempt. "It's the same technology as a Venom Mine." As she spoke, the buzzing stopped. "You can't switch it _on_ again either. It's entirely under my control. _You_ are entirely under my control."

"Yes," Sombra admitted. "Entirely."

The vibrator turned on again, briefly, sending shockwaves through Sombra.

"Now then," Widowmaker said. "Let's see about those rather good ideas of yours. Down on your knees."

Sombra began to lever herself up off the couch, but was driven back down again by the dildo switching back on, at a much higher intensity than before.

"I said, down on your knees."

Sombra, adjusting to the sensation inside her, managed to get down from the couch and into a kneeling position. Still the dildo buzzed, driving her to the brink of orgasm.

And then, suddenly, it shut off again. Panting, Sombra looked up and saw that Widowmaker had unzipped her costume further, all the way down to the crotch.

As Sombra leaned in to worship Widowmaker's cunt, the dildo switched on again.

"That's right," Widowmaker said. "Don't stop. But don't come either. At least, not until I say so."

Sombra groaned into Widowmaker's mound as she continued to lick.

"You are good at this," Widowmaker said. "I think we might have to do this every day. We'll tell the others I'm giving you ... advanced training."

Sombra could feel herself getting close, though she couldn't be sure whether it was the continuing vibrations inside her, or Widowmaker's words, that were driving her to the edge.

The dildo shut off again; whether Widowmaker realised that she was so close, even without the benefit of infrasight, or whether she was just deliberately teasing, was impossible to tell. It didn't matter: she had one mission right now, and it was to pleasure Widowmaker with her tongue. She could taste her growing arousal as she licked back and forth, occasionally swirling her tongue around her clit. Then, boldly, she twisted round to lock her lips around Widowmaker's labia and thrust her tongue inside. That earned her two hands on the back of her head, pulling her in tighter still. A moment later, one of them disappeared again for a moment, and it became all too clear what it had been doing when the vibrator inside her started work again.

Sombra carried on tonguefucking Widowmaker as hard as she could, grabbing on to her thighs to steady herself and, she soon realised, Widowmaker as well, as she began to tremble through her orgasm.

Eventually, Widowmaker let go of her and stepped backwards. "Very good," she said, warmly, her composure breaking for just a moment. "Very good indeed." She stiffened slightly. "You may come now."

The vibrator turned up to its maximum intensity but Sombra was already coming, Widowmaker's permission enough by itself to set her off. She gasped and tried to steady herself, the knowledge that she hadn't been given permission to stop kneeling at war with the shaking need to collapse onto the floor.

By the time she'd come back to her senses, Widowmaker was already putting her helmet back on. "We should get back, before anyone starts to question exactly what we were up to."

Sombra nodded.

"Well, then, stand up, get dressed."

Sombra stood, giving Widowmaker a questioning look.

"Oh, you think I've forgotten," she said. "No, you can keep that in until our next training session."

"What's the range on the control?" If it was low-tech enough not to be hackable, it clearly didn't work over any kind of communications network, it must have its own dedicated frequency ...

Widowmaker barked a laugh. "That's for me to know, and you to find out. But believe me, you will."


End file.
